


Blood Moon

by theywerefireworks (Theywerefireworks)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Frottage, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Violence, Werewolf, Werewolf Stan, Xenophilia, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4911433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theywerefireworks/pseuds/theywerefireworks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the Super Blood Moon, and if Ford can’t find a cure for Stan’s lycanthropy tonight, he fears they’ll both be lost to the stronger symptoms for the rest of their lives. Ford only hopes he’s strong enough to resist, and that it’s all worth it in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Moon

**Author's Note:**

> A piece of Werewolf Stan AU, inspired from folks over on tumblr; stan-o-wars and gravity-garbage. Hope you all enjoy!

Ford had some serious blood on his hands.

He scowled down at the venison he was working on, trying to figure out if he had gotten his cuts just right. He was down in the old portal room; it had long been renovated since the thing had been disassembled years ago into a much cleaner lab area. Right now, the white pristine walls and floors were punctuated with the red of the blood of the deer Ford had brought down. It was a fresh kill and he was currently in the process of cleaning and cutting it. Not that it mattered much; he wouldn’t be the one eating it, and his cuts were hardly ‘standard’. But it was the principal of the thing. Taking a pride in something so simple made the end result that much better. So he kept cutting out the large chunks, humming along to the songs on the radio. It was one of those ‘variety’ stations that Gravity Falls pumped out; he didn’t recognize much yet, but after 3 year’s topside, he _thought_ he was getting a better grasp of today’s music, though he was still catching up on, oh, 3 decades of hits. At least this station played a song every now and then that he actually recognized.

After a few songs that he knew and some that he didn’t, Toby Determined’s voice came on, as nasally and off-putting as ever.

“And that was our local TootToot McBumbersnazzle’s new single, ‘One-Eye Blind’.  Now, as a reminder to all you Gravity Falls star-gazers, a big event is up in the skies tonight! Not only is it a super moon - but it’s also a lunar eclipse! It’s the only one in over 15 years, but don’t get too loony out there folks! The eclipse has already started, but the best part of it will start in the next 45 minutes! Until then, back to the music!”

Ford’s lips twitched into a smile as he sliced the flank of the deer wide open. He had always been an astronomer of sorts - especially while living here in Gravity Falls - and he’d known about this event for almost 5 months now. He’d known it was coming and he’d been preparing. He took in a breath and slid the remaining organs into a bucket.

If it all went well, it would be a night worth remembering.

Sliding the bucket aside, he looked down and checked his handiwork so far. The deer was in good segments; large, but not unmanageable.  Not too small to be swallowed whole either. He nodded in approval and bundled up the ones he knew he would need right away; the legs, the neck, the rump, and a bag for the entrails. It hadn’t been a large deer, so he was sure that he could carry it a ways if he needed to. He then set it all aside and worked on clean up. He only had about 45 minutes, after all.

Cleaning the lab was relaxing and required no thought, which allowed him to recite his plan for the evening in his head one more time. He wouldn’t have much more than an hour, and then after that, everything should be done. And he had prepared - he was _sure_ he had prepared. Every step had been worked out meticulously, with his coup de grace ready and waiting in the fridge. The biggest roadblock, as Ford could see it, was actually bringing himself to do it. He had tried before in the past… but he always chickened out. Afterwards he always cursed his cowardice, his selfishness, but most of all his own goddamn hormones and neediness. Because that’s what it boiled down to at the end of the day; he was goddamn addicted to this monthly routine and didn’t want to let it go. But he had to - _they_ had to. If not, it was going to bite them in the ass, figuratively and literally.

Ford pulled the mop over the tile, chewing his cheek out. He glanced over at the deer remains, still on the table, waiting to be stored. He huffed and looked back down.

Gods, how had it really come to this? How had _both_ of them let this get to the point it had? They had always said the last close call was really going to be the last, but now people were suspicious, there were dead pets, and mutilated carcasses found in the woods. Even a few reports had shown up in the newspaper and no amount of memory-wiping could take out every eye witness that may or may not have seen what was really lurking in the Gravity Falls forest.

No, it was going too far.

Ford had to be the bigger man here.

He snorted under his breath at his own ironic joke.

It had all started when Stan had gotten bitten out on a late night walk about a year ago. Ford still partially blames himself for letting it happen; he had wanted to study some bioluminescent mushrooms and wanted Stan’s help in gathering them. Stan had gotten bored and apparently made something _mad_ in the process. Stan had said it was a large dog and Ford had just rolled his eyes and just rushed Stan back to the Shack where he cleaned the wound and administered the rabies shot to his twin himself. When Stan asked why he had one in the fridge, Ford just replied with a shrug and simple ‘preparedness’. He didn’t know what the Gremloblin or giant vampire bats were carrying in those teeth, and accidents happen.

And after that… Ford hadn’t thought about it. Stan hadn’t mentioned it. It healed up proper, and that was that. They went about their day-to-day, but as the month progressed, the signs of the infection started showing. The insistence of more red meat in the diet. A heightened sense of smell. Stan waking up, saying he didn’t need his hearing aid, he took to not wearing his glasses at night, saying he didn’t need them. At first, Ford had just raised an eyebrow and waved it off. His inventions were finally starting to improve Stan’s quality of life, was all he told himself.

He should have been alarmed, but he missed the red flags entirely. Instead, he kept finding himself dangerously… _distracted_ by his brother during those first 30 days. He kept catching himself side-eying Stan more often than he was looking away. It was as if he was developing this strange magnetism, an aura that fascinated Ford and rose his blood temperature in the most inconvenient of ways. But he was an adult, damnit; he was going to be turning 60 soon and he didn’t even think that was still a potential interest for him. And yet, he would catch Stan out of the corner of his eye and his frame seemed straighter, his shoulders broader, his face healthier. It was as if the years were just melting away from him with each passing day. Ford’s brain was muddled by it to the point that he couldn’t understand what was happening to his twin, and another part that simply didn’t care. It didn’t help that if Stan ever caught him looking his way, he would throw Ford a wink and a devilish grin, his teeth glinting. And - since when did Stan’s teeth glint? Any time a question like that appeared though, it was met with sheer brain static. Hell, Stan become so enticing to Ford that he didn’t get any work done at all. His brother’s condition was all he could think about.

But it wasn’t until just a few days before the next lunar cycle that things had all come to a head. Stan had cornered Ford in the main foyer hallway with the most predatory look on his face, and they both had lost themselves to the blood that was boiling just beneath the surface. It was as if they were young again, but rougher, hungrier. When they were teenagers, they acted out feelings under the guise of experimentation and preparation - this was an all-out frenzy of cravings held for over 30 years and amplified tenfold. Just the mere memory of that night was enough to send heat coursing through Ford’s body.

Stan’s… _renewed vigor_ was explained just a few days after that, when he had first changed. Stan had run off, killed a deer and Ford didn’t find him until he next morning – naked, covered in blood, and utterly horrified. It was as if all that health he had gained completely left him after that night and he was bedridden for the next 3 days before he back to being miraculously fine - no fever, no aches, no feeling of death. Just back to normal Stan - but nothing was normal anymore.

Ford had been a whirlwind of worry after that; researching, looking for cures, seeking out answers day and night. He feared the worst and hoped for the best, but with every passing sleepless night, the moon waned away and then started waxing back again. And Stan’s energy and libido seemed to travel with it, causing a few more heated, sleepless nights for Ford and a few more sickly nights for Stan after the full moon passed.

It kept going like that. Every month, the moon would go full, and Stan would transform, being a huge terror in the Gravity Falls woods. And after that, Ford would freak out as Stan returned from the brink of death, his need to find a cure spurred on by Stan’s sickly disposition. But then Stan would recover, and Ford would…relax. And he would fall into routine with Stan, and only half-heartedly research like he should have, more caught up in the sheer animal magnetism, one that grew stronger and stronger on both of them every day until they were practically snapping each other in half every night. And every month he loved it, he _really loved it,_ but then he hated himself, he hated that he kept letting this happen, that Stan’s curse had somehow spread to him in this invisible way, stopping him from truly ending the cycle as they pushed and pulled against each other like the tides.

But that was all ending tonight. Too many people were getting suspicious and now he had a cure. He had actually found it and concocted it _months_ ago but his flesh was so weak anymore. Whenever he got himself steeled up for what he needed to do, he would lose all conviction, falling into Stan’s waiting arms again and again. But this time, he had won. During the strongest lunar cycle of the decade, he had denied himself that which he wanted more than anything. Even now, days later, his body was shaking and he had to bite his bottom lip every now and then to make sure the yearning he felt didn’t become overpowering. He had a job to do, and by god he was going to do it. This time, _this time_ , he would make sure it was the last time.

For both their sakes.  
  


* * *

 

45 minutes later, and Ford is standing on the back porch of the house, the pieces of venison he had prepared wrapped and packed onto his back in a sling sack. Another insulated bag was strapped to his thigh and he patted it, making sure it was where he needed it. He had left his usual sweater and coat inside tonight, sporting just a black undershirt for the future task at hand. Didn’t help that tonight was actually a bit chilly; autumn was setting in and a recent cold front left the crisp scent of the changing seasons on the wind. Ford turned the porch light off and put his eyes to the sky. It didn’t take long to find exactly what he was looking for. The blood-red orb glowed down at him, huge and ominous, as if it were the purveyor of the Apocalypse itself. He smirked at that; he had survived the end of the world already 3 years ago. It would take more than a celestial phenomenon to make him superstitious.

A bone-chilling howl broke the calm of the night, causing some birds in a nearby tree to take to the sky. Ford felt his limbs ringing in response and he set his jaw, quelling the utter excitement that threatened to burst out of him.

Now was the witching hour. Or should he say, the Wolfing hour.  
  


* * *

 

Stan didn’t take long to find. On a night like tonight, all Ford had to do was follow the trail of blood and destruction his brother left behind. The eclipse, paired with the moon being 30% closer (and 30% brighter) to Earth, meant that Stan had been in a terror _days_ before the actual full moon. One night, Ford had to literally tie his brother down in a chair. And God save him if he hadn’t wanted to be destroyed by his brother right then and there… but he held it in. He had to. Stan had been too dangerous, even then, and Ford couldn’t risk being bitten so close to the full moon. Tonight though, he wasn’t worried. He would be fine. Even if bitten, he would be fine. Because when he made the cure, he made a few batches of a wolfsbane-based vaccination and had administered it himself. He hadn’t been bitten yet to test it out but… well, if it didn’t work, he had extra cure. It would be fine. Wolf or no, Stan was still his brother, his - his better half. They would get through this curse together.

The sound of panting and crunching bones brought Ford back to reality. His adrenaline spiked as he rounded a corner and came to a clearing among the trees. His heart jumped into his throat as he caught sight of Stan - no, not Stan anymore, but the wolf that lay dormant just under the surface. He was there, fully transformed, feasting on some poor deer or elk or… hell,who knew what that pile of meat and viscera was, Ford was just glad looked too big to be human. As for the wolf… God, he was _huge_. Larger than any bear, giant shoulders hunched over as he pulled chunk after chunk out of his dead victim, eyes glowing yellow even from this distance. Ford had seen his wolf form only a few times, and each time it had been a thrilling ride. Grappling with a full-blown werewolf… it reminded him of his days of chasing unicorns and octopi and flying eyes and all the hundreds of things that he fought that had tried to kill him in the Portal. The same thrill was here too; the thrill of a good fight, the thrill of a challenge, the thrill of almost dying but getting away alive, taking out something bigger and larger and tougher than he was. He took a few breaths and did his best to steady himself. _Don’t get too excited,_ he told himself. _You’ll make mistakes. You can’t make mistakes tonight._

But as his heart hammered as he stepped into the clearing, the wolf snapping his head up to zero in on him, Ford couldn’t stop the grin breaking his face. He had to stifle the laugh as he eased his way into the clearing, as he watched the wolf’s face find him, huge nose quivering, the lips rolling back to reveal the glistening, blood-stained fangs underneath.

_Yeah, that’s right big guy, I’m right here. I’m right here waiting for you._

Ford’s presence alone was enough to make the wolf completely abandon his feast and stride forward, tail thrashing. Ford’s nerves were on end as the giant creature rose up, as imposing as anything he had ever seen in all of his travels. And god if it wasn’t the most exciting too. He felt the sweat dripping down as he reached for the pack on his back. He then tossed a bag of entrails out towards the wolf, seeing if it would take the bait.

This wasn’t his first werewolf rodeo, even if he planned for it to be his last. The wolf seemed to know this; seemed to remember who Ford was as it glanced from the intestines up to Ford. It sniffed, pink tongue flicking out to lick its nose. It then lowered itself down, growled low and gravelly at Ford and grabbed the intestines, sticking it’s nose face first into this new feast.

Ford gulped, doing his best not to jump out of his own skin. As the wolf ate, it kept an eye on Ford, but Ford stayed just out of reach, tossing the other deer pieces towards the large predator. It wasn’t a huge meal compared to the pile of flesh and bones that he had left behind, but it would be enough to fill that huge, hulking belly of his. The sounds and smells were horrendous, but Ford couldn’t leave now, even if he wanted to.

Because Ford was finding belatedly that he _didn’t_ want to leave, as if that was the worst idea in the world. Instead - and boy, would he hate himself for even admitting this later - his attraction was only growing, as if this beast, it’s scent, hell _everything about it_ , was the greatest aphrodisiac in the entire world. It was just a thrilling thing to even be near; the excitement of the hunt, the anticipation of the potential chase. Knocking on death’s doorstep just to walk away unscathed. God, help him, it was all a fucking turn on.

But he was still here on a mission. He couldn’t let his baser needs get the best of him, not now.

Slowly, he pushed forward, his hand hovering over the bag strapped to his thigh. As he got closer, the wolf would sometimes turn to look at him, its nose taking in huge gulps of air, but maybe it remembered Ford, knew his scent, which stayed the beast’s hand. Or maybe the wolf was just that invested in his meal. Whichever it was, the wolf was feeling pretty good about all of it, if his growing sheath was anything to go by. Ford spied the pink glistening tip poking out and licked his lips, looking away and doing his best to ignore the heat his caused in his own loins.

Ah yes, it wasn’t bad enough that he was attracted to and currently fucking his brother. No, he had to want it as a _giant ass wolf_ as well. Though if he was completely honest, it’s not the strangest thing he’s had intercourse with…

He tiptoed closer, almost close enough to reach out and touch the fur on the wolf’s neck. The heat coming off of it was palpable, the smell even moreso. Ford just shook his head and powered through it. He had come this far, it wouldn’t be much longer now.

He slowly reached down and unzipped the bag on his thigh.

It happened in a flash of teeth and talons. Faster than Ford could blink, faster than he could react, faster than he could even _breathe_ , the wolf was on him, tackling him into the tree, knocking the wind out of him. Ford could barely move before the clawed fingers wrapped around his arms, pinning him down. He threw his legs out in an attempt to stop the monster’s momentum, and it partially worked; the jaws snapped shut before reaching his face, saliva spraying his as the anger roared out from the wolf’s throat, snarling and carrying on. Despite the pain of the forced impact, Ford all but grinned bigger, his smile matching Stan’s at his most mischievous.

“Yeah, you’d like to throw me around, wouldn’t ya, buddy.” The words were bigger than he felt but he just couldn’t bring himself to fear this monster. Not when he knew it, what it wanted, how it love the smell of him; oh, Stan had always _said_ it was him talking, but Ford always knew the wolf wanted it too, wanted it more, egged Stan on on those nights right before the full moon… this beast had let Ford in, and it wasn’t going to kill him now.

The goading got to the wolf though and it snarled angrily, pushing Ford into the tree. Some of the wood creaked and groaned under them, the weight and the power of the wolf too much. Despite the burning hate, Ford met the beast stare for stare. He coughed a bit, tasting the blood in his mouth, but the smile never left.

“What are you going to do? Kill me? Scared of what I might do to you? Scared I’ll make you come undone?” The wolf just shuddered in response, lips curling. The heat from his rank, blood-stained breath washed over him, causing a jolt of extra excitement. Ford couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, wondering if this huge bloody moon wasn’t affecting him too, making him cockier, more arrogant. Driving him to the state of lunacy, even in the face of death.

But he wouldn’t die. Not tonight. Not when he was so close. Not when this felt so good.

He licked his lips, eyes never leaving the wolf’s. It kept him firmly in place - it was much stronger than Ford but without Stan’s mind in the forefront, it was never as clever. It was all pure instinct, and Ford knew from experience that if he waited it out, he would outwit the predator. It was just a matter of time.

“Come on, you just gonna leave me here, do nothing to me? A tasty morsel under your paws and you won’t even -”

The jaw jutted forward and Ford clenched, expecting teeth, expecting a bite, but instead a nose shove itself into the crook of his neck, inhaling deep. Ford swallowed but couldn’t stop himself when he turned his head away, exposing his neck as he did his best not to breathe out a groan. He shouldn’t be this excited, shouldn’t be goading this beast into action but - _oooh._ He shut his eyes and moaned out through his teeth as a large tongue licked over his shoulder, teeth nipping at the delicate skin and he squirmed, no place to go. And _fucking hell_ if he didn’t feel the beast shaking against him slightly, as if it was laughing at him, and Ford couldn’t help but wonder how much of Stan was actually in there, watching, loving every minute of his helpless brother squirm and writhe beneath strong fingers.

Suddenly the wolf’s body was much closer, the heat suffocating, the scent overpowering. Ford could barely choke out a word before one paw broke free, ripping a slice in his shirt, opening his skin and chest to more torture. And God the wolf was _relentless_ ; it breathed and licked and nipped just enough to send Ford into a quivering mess but never enough to bite, to really sink its fangs in, but Ford didn’t care; he was more gone than he thought, drowning in this beast above him, wanting nothing more than to scream at it to destroy him, take him, ravish his body and leave him a heap of bones on the floor as long as this feeling _doesn’t stop_ and he’s sure he’s just a babbling mess as the wolf presses in on him closer and closer and closer. Eventually that wolf is rocking its hips into him, a large, foreign erection rubbing against his own and it’s all he can do to not lose his throat as he cries out from the friction. He knows it’s not going to be much longer now and _hell_ if he got himself into the same mess he always does. He’s barely keeping himself together as the wolf pushes its bulk closer, its hot breath washing over Ford, his fur filling his lungs, his cock rubbing against his own and he knows he won’t last long, not with those fangs looming closer, the saliva dripping and running over his shoulder as the jaws lower, inching closer, shaking from the effort of holding back -

-when the tree spectacularly _snaps._

Ford dropped, lurching backwards with the wood, the wolf following suit, letting out a frustrated snarl as it was rendered completely off-balance. With the dizzying heat and smell of the wolf off of him, Ford’s mind cleared in an instant. Wasting no time, he unzipped his bag, pulling out a long syringe filled with a bright, greenish liquid. The end of the needle gleamed red in the moonlight and the wolf saw it, eyes wide. _It knew._ But it was too late. Ford was grinning his devil grin, his triumph clear as he plunged forward, needle at the ready, but the livid wolf met him, fangs and claws flashing. He felt the searing, burning, ripping pain in his shoulder, felt something crunch and snap and he _screamed,_ but he still buried that needle deep into the neck of the wolf as they both fell to the forest floor, a heap of limbs and fur. Ford let out a startled yelp as the bulk of the beast fell on top of him, tasting copper on his tongue.

He coughed once, twice, tried to move but couldn’t from the searing pain and the mass on top of him. So he stopped struggling entirely, staring up at that bloody moon and resigning himself to his fate.

The world swam through his shattered lenses but he was patient.

He waited.

For something - _anything -_  to happen.

The wolf didn’t budge.

He was starting to wonder if he was going to lose too much blood - if he was going to die before seeing if his serum had any effect - when the mass on top of him started to dissolve. He coughed out in relief, feeling the tears forming in his eyes as the fur and claws and bulk fizzled back down into just a man. An ordinary, slightly overweight, beautiful, 60-year old man who stirred on top of Ford, who for his part was quickly getting himself into a coughing fit. Stan groaned, a hand going to his head. Ford felt dizzy - not with arousal this time, but absolute affection and elation and he grinned despite everything.

“Get off me you big galoot, I can’t - I can’t breathe,” Ford hacked out. Stan pushed himself up a bit, still holding his head, but his eyes went wide when he saw Ford and bloodied mess of a body. He could guess how he looked but it must have been worse than he thought from how Stan was gaping at him.

“Ford- _Oh my God, FORD?!_ What-” And immediately the tears formed, but thank god he wasn’t collapsing in a heap on the floor like he usually did after a full moon, looking sickly and pale and making Ford’s heart clench with worry. Ford watched his face go from fear to terror to anger, and before Stan could start blaming himself, Ford threw his good arm up to catch him.

“Hey. Not your fault. Mine. Promise.”

“Like bloody hell Ford, you’re bleeding everywhere, your shoulder is a mess, it’s a fucking FULL MOON and you’ve been bit-”

“ _Mmfine_ ,” he slurred out. He was more tired than he thought, or maybe that was the adrenaline finally leaving his lims.  “I’ll be fine. Promise. Vaccine. You will be too. Cured ya. We don’t–, we aren’t cursed with this anymore, Stanley.”

And Stan just stared at him at that, his eyes wide, as he turned his head to look at the sky. The red phase of the eclipse was passing, but the moon was still there, still shining down. And there Stan was, as gloriously human and as naked as could be. Ford smiled at that.

“Okay Ford this is all great, but what am I supposed to do with you?! I’m covered in blood and in my birthday suit, you’re fucking bleeding and your shirt’s half-torn to pieces and –” He trailed off, his face half filled with anger, and half filled with worry and God, that distraught look on Stan’s face was _killing him._ Ford winced and shook his head.

“Side pocket. Cell phone. Call Soos. Have him bring his truck. Go back to the Shack. Got it?”

_“Ford-”_

“I’ll be _fine_ , Stan, as long as you call Soos.” Ford’s voice was raspier than he would have wanted. Stan just gave him a long look, but then reached down into his thigh bag, pulling out a phone. Before he dialed though, he gave Ford a searching look before he leaned down and gave him a soft, careful kiss.

Ford’s breath caught and his eyes watered at the gesture because it was so soft and sweet and _Lord_ ,  he didn’t even know if Stan even would - if _he_ even would - but the warmth was there and he kissed him back and he swallowed hard when Stan pulled away, wishing for the life of him his shoulder wasn’t fucked to high hell and back and stopping him from grabbing and loving on Stan right then and there.

“I’m so sorry, Ford,” Stan choked out, but Ford just reached out and grabbed Stan’s hand, holding it reassuringly.

“Hey, it’s fine. You’re fine. It’s over.” Stan swallowed thickly and nodded, his eyes wet as he dialed Soos’ number, chatting fast and hard. Ford vaguely heard him telling him to book it or it would be his vacation time on the line and he laughed at that smiling as he lay his head back, watching that moon hovering over them in the sky. He sighed out in relief and felt himself slip into unconsciousness - sleep, he was just going to sleep real fast, ‘cause damn, was he ever _tired_. From somewhere far away, he felt a warm hand grasp his, heard a wonderful voice say his name, and he grinned.

He was fine. Stan was fine. Finally, it was all over.


End file.
